King Arthur and the Holy teacup Grail
by smoking-tulips
Summary: King Arthur Kirkland has been given a mission by the all powerful...Fea. So he sets of with his trusty knights of the rather round table. Monty Python and the Holy Grail crossover fic.
1. Chapter 1

_A.N: This was inspired by several things. One: my good friend Leo writing Avenue Q / Hetalia fic. Two: Monty Python's pure awesomeness Three: Lack of Sleep (yes this is reoccuring. deal with it) Four: the need to write this crack_

_In this Chapter. King Arthur and Squire Antonio meet a Belgian and Australian castle guards and discuss important things like migration and coconuts._

* * *

Scene 1

The wind was blowing through the grass and trees in the quaint countryside, somewhere in the distance the faint sound of a galloping horse could be heard

Well, it was supposed to sound like one anyway.

«Whoa there!» Arthur said and halted his loyal Spanish companion and squire Antonio.

Antonio made a few more clip-clop noises with the two coconut halves before grading to a halt in front of the large caste his 'king' had seen

Suddenly a castle guard appeared, his dark hair sticking ever so slightly up and with a small bandage across his nose. «Halt Mate! Who goes there?»

Arthur scoffed before regaining his composure. «It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, sovereign of all England!» He'd practised this speech several times since having been crowned and he rather did like his full title.

The young guard didn't seem impressed. «Mate, Pull the other one!»

«Oh but I am. And this my trusty servant Patsy.» Arthur motioned towards the Spaniard. «uhh...my name is Antonio...not 'Patsy'» Arthur just waved the man away, focusing on the young guard instead. Antonio frowned but said nothing more.

«We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join me in my court of Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master.»

The guard looked confused «What, ridden on a horse?»  
«Yes!» Was it really that hard to believe? Did this guard not ride horses where he came from?

Unbeknown to Arthur, The castle guard was more a-keen to riding kangaroos than horses, and everyone knows kangaroos make the sound of a pogo stick, not coconut halves.

«You're using coconuts!» The dark haired guard pointed accusingly at the two travellers.  
«What?» Arthur was taken back by this statement.

«Yeah Mate, You've got two empty halves of coconut and you're bangin' 'em together.»

What was the big deal about that? Arthur tried not to frown too much, he was a king! Kings did not frown.

«So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercea, through-» He didn't get to finish before he was rudely interrupted

«Where'd you get the coconut?»

«We found them.» Arthur stated very matter-of-factly. He was English after all.  
And also a king. Did I mentioned that?  
Very important. Kings I mean, not me mentioning things.

The odd accented guard looked confused «Found them? In Mercea? The coconut's tropical!»  
Arthur was getting impatient now. «What do you mean?»

«Well you see Mate, this is a temperate zone.» the guard waved his hands around him. How could this 'king' person not know such basic geography!

The guardsman was getting on his nerves, time to bless the man with some wise and mystical quotes «The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plumber may seek warmer climes in winter yet these are not strangers to our land.»

This only seemed to confuse the guard more «Mate...Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?»

This was getting ridiculous, all he had wanted was to speak to the master of this castle! Not discuss coconuts with pesky guards. «Not at all, they could be carried.»

«What...a swallow carrying a coconut?» The guard scratched his bandage over his nose as if he was in deep thought about this topic.

«It could grip it by the husk you bloody idiot!» He was growing tired of this discussion – who cared about the coconuts! Arthur had been given a task! And he aimed to full fill it.

«It's not a question of where he grips it! It's a simple question of weight ratios! A five ounce bird could not carry a 1 pound coconut.» the guardsman continued his explanation – Arthur figured he had to be one of those damn nature lovers – far too in touch with nature then strictly needed.

Arthur again tried to gear this conversation from coconuts and swallows to the real reason he had halted at this particular spot «Well, it doesn't matter. Will you go and tell your master  
that Arthur from the Court of Camelot is here.»

«Oi! Listen to me here Mate, in order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings 43 times every second, right?»  
Arthur restored to begging «Please!» He couldn't handle listening to this idiotic youth go on and on about swallows.

«Am I right?» the guard sounded almost cocky, had the other male not been so far up the castle wall, Arthur would have broken the guy's nose – at least then that bandage would be useful for something. Stupid fashion trends the youths today followed...  
«I'm not interested!» he shouted up at the guard

«Nee, It could be carried by an African swallow!» A young blonde woman popped up and leant casually against the castle walls, smiling brightly, a green ribbon highly visible in her golden hair.

«Oh, yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not a European  
swallow, that's my point.» The first guard ran a hand through his already messy hair.  
«Oh, ja, I agree with that...» The woman went quiet and pondered the question further, this obviously needed more thought.  
Curling his fists tightly, Arthur tried one last time  
«Will you ask your master if he wants to join my court at Camelot?»

«But then of course African swallows are not migratory.» The male guard turned to face his co-worker, completely ignoring Arthur and Antonio.

«Oh, oui...» she sighted

«So they couldn't bring a coconut back anyway...» the guardsman took his swallow facts very seriously.

Arthur groaned and motioned to Antonio to carry on. The two disappeared down the hill and into the misty landscape, until the only sound was the soft 'clip-clop' of two halves of a coconut being banged together.

Meanwhile; the two castle guards where still eager to solve this mystery.

« Wacht even... supposing two swallows carried it together?» that could be a possibility! Right? The female guard was so sure she had this solved.

«Nah Mate, they'd have to have it on a line.» he made a fleeting motion with his hand, trying to empathise the the needed length of line.

«Well, simple! They'd just use a standard creeper!» the young woman grinned happily at her co-worker

«What, held under the dorsal guiding feathers?» He gave her a stern glare – he would have to educate this woman in the anatomy of birds later – such blatant disregard for physics and nature simply was not tolerable.

« Well, waarom niet?» She shrugged at her co-worker before heading back inside the guards tower – no use arguing, the strange men where gone. Although that squire had been awfully cute...

* * *

_Stay tuned_

_The Quest for the Holy Grail Continues!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N: I won't lie. This was hillarious to write. On the other hand...poor Rome_

This chapter:  
Vash get's a customer who has a rahter lively Roman corpse to get rid off.

* * *

The small village was one you'd hardly wanted to be seen alive in – perhaps this was why so many kept dying.  
A young man with blonde hair was lugging a large cart down the street, occasionally he would stop, re-adjust his dagger, before continuing his journey through the mud-covered streets.  
Ringing a large golden bell he shouted out as he walked past the dark and murky houses.

«Bring out your dead!»  
The metallic bell's clang rang out through he streets

«Bring out your dead!»  
Another loud clang

«Bringen Sie Ihre tot!»  
He shook the bell with all his might, occasionally stopping to let some people throw a dead body onto his cart, then he picked up the handles again and continued his morbid journey down the street

«Bring out your dead!»  
How he hated this job

«Bringen Sie Ihre tot!»  
At least it paid well...

«Bring out your dead!»  
And God knew he needed the money!

«Bringen Sie Ihre tot!»  
He had a younger sister to support after all

«Bring out your dead!»  
The bell was heavy – he really wished he could swap it for a nice long sword, that way he didn't have to wait for the plague to kill the people of the town, he could just do it himself – it would save so much time.

«Bring out your dead!»  
The bell clang out again and again. Several people shied away from him – scared his very presence might be the reason for the deaths – Vash could only dream of such powers.

«Bringen Sie Ihre tot!»  
He came to a halt outside of a few houses, ringing his bell a few extra times for good measure.

A tall man with long blonde hair appeared, carrying what appeared to be a man the same age, with short dark brown hair – very curly too. The blonde man didn't look happy at all Vash though. «Here's one...nine pence, ja?» The man's face remained stoic as he dug through his pockets for the money, shifting the large body he was carrying over his shoulder ever so slightly. Was that Roman armour on the dead body?

«I'm not dead!»

Vash blinked «Was?» did the dead man just speak?

The older male looked angry now «Nothing...here's your nine pence.»

The 'dead' man tried to wriggle out of the blonde's grasp «I'm not dead!»

Vash frowned, this was halting his business, he was a very busy man «Here...he says he's not dead!»

«Yes, he is.» The older blonde haired man frowned – he wanted this damned bastard out of his house.

«I'm not!»

Vash had to agree with the supposedly dead man, dead men did not talk «He isn't.»

The Germanic man shrugged and looked bored «Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.» 'In the head' he added mentally to himself

«I'm getting better!» came the rather energetic reply from the dark haired man. Vash though it was off how someone with such wild and curly hair had been living with the other male. Then again, it was the dark ages – people did the strangest of things.

He sighted loudly and frowned even more «Nein, you're not...you'll be stone dead in a moment.» why wouldn't this pesky Roman die already? Honestly, the world would be a better place if he just wandered off.

Vash shook his head and gave the customer a stern glare – which didn't look to impressive, as the other blonde male was much taller than him. «Oh, I can't take him like that...it's against regulations.»

«I don't want to go in the cart!» the Roman soldier seemed rather distressed by the prospect of being labelled dead. Which when you think about it, is rather logical.

«Oh, don't be such a baby...» He was close to just dropping the damn man on the muddy ground, the Roman as heavy...and loud, and clingy. And a pervert. Which is why he wanted him gone.

Massaging his temples Vash tried again «I can't take him...» He couldn't just disregard the rules and regulations – the world would be a mess if he did.

The Roman man flailed his arms and tried to escape his Germanic capturer. «I feel fine!» he didn't want to go on the cart! He wanted to see his grandson again! Wait...was there not two? Never mind, only one was cute anyway.

«Oh, do us all here a favour...» the elder man looked genuinely distressed for a brief moment, it almost made Vash rethink his reply – almost.

«I can't.» Vash sighted and gave the older male an apologetic look – rules where rules...

«Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't be long.» he shifted the 'dead' weight a bit more. Honestly, if he didn't die soon he swore he'd starve the damn Roman so at least he'd be less of a hassle to carry – already he could hardly feel his arm.

Vash shook hi head again «Nein, I got to go on to Robinson's» he pointed down the muddy road «they've lost nine today.»

A deep frown spread across the taller man's face, he wasn't pleased by this information. «Well, when is your next round?»

«Thursday.»

the Roman's far too cheery voice piped up again «I think I'll go for a walk...visit my cute grandson!» He tried to look energetic and happy – and did a darn well good job at it too.

«You're not fooling anyone you know.» The blonde male directed his stern and angry glare to his dark haired 'companion' «Look, isn't there something you can do?» his eyes pleaded with Vash to do something – anything – to rid him of this damn Roman idiot.

«I feel happy... I feel happy.» his curly hair moved up and down as he attempted to dance while still slung over the Germanic man's shoulder – it was a rather comical sight.

Vash looked up and down the street , content there was no one looking his direction he raised his bell and brought it down hard onto the dark haired man's skull. A loud 'thump' was heard before the Roman's movements stopped and he fell limp.

«Ah, thanks very much.» He lifted the dead weight of his shoulders and slung it onto Vash cart – good riddance – that was one less pest in his household.

Shrugging Vash picked up the cart's handles «Not at all. See you on Thursday.»  
The tell man nodded «Right.»

Before Vash had a chance to lug his cart further down, two men came down the muddy road – one was prancing, the other one was banging two coconut halves together – looking very bored and tired. The duo continued down the road before taking a corner and disappearing out of sight.  
Vash scratched his head and stared after the two men «Who's that then?»

«I don't know.» came the reply from his customer.

«Must be a king.»

«Why?»

«He hasn't got shit all over him.» He simply stated before starting his trip further down the road.

The tall blonde man just nodded in agreement before he turned around and headed back into his own house.

* * *

_A.N: I'm on such a roll with this! I just hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it_


	3. Chapter 3

_In this scene: Cuba is mistaken for a woman. Spain takes great pleasure in England's misfortune, while Canada looks for some nice 'grass'._

(Cuba = Carlos)

* * *

**Scene 3**

Usually, one would start this with the description of how bleak and grey the day was, but this is Britain, weather like this is normal and of no surprise, so we'll skip the weather and go straight to our two 'heroes' approaching another castle.

Arthur had spotted it from a distance, and commanding Antonio along had headed towards it.

A person dressed in rags was lugging a large and heavy wooden cart up a grassy hill. It didn't hurt to stop and ask the person some questions – after all, last time hadn't gone to well. Arthur wanted to be a bit more cautious. And Antonio? He just wished he didn't have to carry all of Arthur's luggage. The scones alone weighted several kilos.

Prancing up to the pheasant, Arthur cleared his throat. "Old woman!" he greeted.  
"Man!" came the very gruff reply from the pheasant. 'oh dear' thought Antonio 'how are you going to get out of this one Arthur?' Secretly he took great pleasure in watching Arthur fail miserably at being a king. Served the stuck up Englishman right.

Arthur inwardly groaned "Old Man, sorry. What knight live in that castle over there?"  
"I'm thirty seven." The pheasant almost growled back. Arthur could now see the man was rather large, and burly. With dark skin, scruffy beard and a really odd hair style. Not braids – god forbid someone that manly wore braids – but a very odd style none the less. Had Arthur bothered to ask Antonio, the Spaniard would have been able to tell him they where 'dreadlocks'.

"What?" Arthur blinked in confusion and stared at the large man.

"I'm thirty seven...I'm not old!"

Arthur rolled his eyes "Well, I can't just call you 'Man'" Where all his people this annoying?  
The pheasant continued lugging the heavy cart up the hill.

"Well, you could say 'Carlos'." He glared at Arthur before stopping his cart by one of the grassy fields.

"Well, I didn't know you were called 'Carlos'." Arthur's voice had a hint of anger in it. Why did no one respect him as their king! Was it the eyebrows?

Carlos glared angrily at the Brit "Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?"

"I did say sorry about the `old woman,' but from the behind  
you looked-."  
The large Cuban man cut him off "What I object to is you automatically treat me like an inferior!"

Arthur glared at the man "Well, I AM king..." In the background Antonio stifled a chuckle at his 'kings' predicament.

"Oh king, hmm? very nice. And how'd you get that, hu? By exploiting the workers - by 'hanging' on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic an' social differences in our society! If there's ever going to be any progress..." the Cuban man rambled on and on.

Suddenly a pale and blonde man came running over "Carlos, there's some lovely grass down here." Then he spotted Arthur and Antonio "Oh, how do you do?" He said shyly and gave a small bow.  
Arthur gave a small smile "How do you do, good la- sir. I am Arthur, King of the Britons." he pointed to the castle at the top of the hill  
"Who's castle is that?"

The young blonde man blinked and looked at Arthur with confusion "King of the who?"

Arthur sighted "The Britons."

the blonde's puzzled expression did not leave his face at that explanation "Who are the Britons?"

How could these two not know such basic knowledge! Arthur was getting more and more frustrated. "Well, we all are. we're all Britons and I am your king."  
Antonio rolled his eyes in the background – they weren't all British – in fact, none of them where. Stupid Englishman.

"I didn't know we had a king. I thought we were an autonomous collective, eh.."

Carlos frowned "You're fooling yourself Matthew. We're living in a dictatorship!" He glared at Arthur "A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes-"

Matthew rolled his eyes "Oh there you go, bringing class into it again."

"That's what it's all about if only people would-"  
Arthur cut the Cuban man off  
"Please, please good people. I am in haste. Who lives in that castle?" This was the second time he'd have to almost beg people to listen to him – such behaviour was not befitting a king.

Matthew shrugged "No one live there." he picked some of the odd looking plants and stuffed them in one of his many pockets

"Then who is your lord?" Arthur looked at the young blonde man quizzically. He didn't like the large dark skinned one – he was scary looking.

"We don't have a lord..."

Arthur almost fell off his imaginary horse "What?"

"I told you. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week." The Cuban man rambled on and on

Arthur nodded weakly "Yes."

"But all the decision of that officer have to be ratified at a special biweekly meeting." the man refused to stop until the Englishman had understood the concept of a free society.

He was at the breaking point with his patience "Yes, I see..."  
Antonio snickered – this was incredibly amusing to watch.

"By a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs-"

"Be quiet!" Arthur near shouted at the Cuban man.

"-but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more-" the taller man continued on his ranting - waving his arms franticly at times.

He had enough – Arthur couldn't handle any more of this horrible political rant. "Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!" he shouted at the large man.

"Order, eh?...who does he think he is?" Matthew tilted his head to the side and looked at Arthur accusingly.

Arthur glared and frowned deeply "I am your king!" He pointed to himself to empathise the point. Antonio snickered quietly to himself while pondering if he'd be be-headed if he high-five'd the large Cuban male.

Matthew looked a bit miffed "Well, I didn't vote for you, eh."

"You don't vote for kings." Arthur frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. Antonio always though it then looked like two hairy caterpillars trying to wriggle free from captivity when he moved them like that. He kept that thought to himself though.

"Well, 'ow did you become king then, eh?" Matthew chewed a small piece of grass lazily as he surveyed this strange 'king' person.

Arthur got a glazed look in his eyes "The Lady of the Lake.." he dreamily uttered. Had one been able to hear what went on in his mind, you would have heard a choir of angels sing.  
"...her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water signifying by Divine Providence that I, Arthur Kirkland, was to carry Excalibur."  
Arthur's day dream state ended and he looked at Matthew sternly  
"That is why I am your king!"

Carlos had heard enough "Listen! strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."

A vein popped for Arthur "Be quiet!" he shouted, his face growing red in anger.

The large dark skinned man took no notice of the Briton's anger "Well you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!"

Arthur's face reddened even more and his eyebrows furrowed deeply, his anger was growing and growing. "Shut up!"

"I mean, if I went around sayin' I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me they'd put me away!" Carlos waved his arms around, much to the amusement of a rather glazed eyed Matthew and a very happy Antonio.

He'd had enough. "Shut up! Will you shut up!" Arthur grabbed a hold of the larger man and tried to shake him – with not much success. Antonio keeled over laughing as Arthur's rage was only spurred on further by the large pheasant.

"Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system." Carlos wriggled in Arthur's grasp.

"Shut up!" Arthur ordered again as he shook Carlos with all his might.

"Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! HELP! HELP! I'm being repressed!" The larger male jumped up and down to try and get his fellow pheasant's attention.

"Bloody peasant!" Arthur spat before giving Carlos one last shove.

This did little to calm the other man "Oh, what a give away. Did you hear that, did you hear that, hmm? That's what I'm on about...did you see him repressing me, you saw it didn't you?" Carlos waved his hand and pointed at a very flustered and angry Arthur who was busy dragging a laughing Antonio away with him.

Matthew watched amusedly as the poor Spaniard was dragged away, desperately trying to make the two coconut halves make some form of coherent noise as he giggled uncontrollably.

* * *

_A.N I apologise for the generic name for Cuba...but I needed a human name, and when I searched for common Cuban names I got 'Carlos' quite a lot... and it is also one of the possible names for him._

_That being said...I had many options of who I could cast as these two 'pheasants' but after much consideration (and swapping 'filth' for 'grass) Cuba and Canada won._

_Next up: THE BLACK KNIGHT!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N: Onwards! The Blue Knight always triumphs!_

* * *

Scene 4

Somewhere in a forest ,somewhat bathed in some very rare sunlight for such a season, two men where travelling.

Not far from them, a knight clad in a deep blue armour was fighting some other knight – who we won't name because he's not important to our plot. His name was probably Bartholomew or something equally silly. The swords clang loudly through the serene forest.

The Blue Knight swung his sword but it was quickly blocked by the green night's own weapon. Shouts of rage and pain could be heard from both as they struggled to overpower one-another.

Meanwhile – Arthur and Antonio where galloping through the forest, the two coconut halves sounding rather convincing when coupled with the dramatic music playing inside of Arthur's head.

The two knights fought with all their strength, a triumphant cry was heard when the blue knight fell to the ground. Having abandoned his sword, the Green knight settled for trying his hand on a large iron mace. His decision turned for the worse when the long metal chain twirled around his opponents sword and with a swift kick the Blue knight regained his composure and got of the ground.

Arthur motioned for Antonio to stop, peaking out from behind some trees they watched in amazement as the intense battle continued.

By now the man in Green was exhausted, but giving up meant certain death. Throwing away the useless mace he found a battle axe and raised it above his head.

Screaming what could only be interpreted as some form of medieval battle cry, the green clad knight stormed towards the Blue Knight.

The Blue Knight raised his sword and remained calm. A almost inaudible 'Kesesesese' could be heard as the Green Knight charged towards him.

With a swift movement, The Blue Knight struck his sword through a small slot in the Green Knight's helmet.  
Blood splattered everywhere as the long sword became logged further and further into the other male's skull.

A dull thud could be heard as the Green Knight fell lifeless to the forest floor.  
Taking a good grip on the handle, the blue knight pulled the sword out of the man's skull, before wiping the blood on the dead man's clothes.

Arthur was impressed, he waved to Antonio to follow him.  
'clop, clop, clop' could be heard as they approached the blue clad knight.

Stopping in front of the knight Arthur was surprised to notice a small yellow chick sitting on the blue knight helmet.  
'Odd companion for a brave knight' he thought, 'perhaps it would grow to be a great eagle later...'

Arthur cleared his throat before speaking "You fight with the strength of many men, Sir Knight."

No reply – but had Arthur been able to see inside the helmet, he would have seen an albino grinning wickedly back at him.

"I am Arthur, King of the Britons." Still there was no reply from the knight in blue. Arthur looked at Antonio worriedly - who only gave a half-hearted shrug in confusion - before turning back to the knight.

"I seek the finest and the bravest knights in the land to join me in my court at Camelot."

The Blue knight didn't even move

"You have proved yourself worthy. Will you join me?"

Again, silence was all Arthur was met with. He frowned at the knight – why would anyone not want to follow him?

"You make me sad. So be it! Come, Patsy." Arthur motioned for Antonio to follow.  
The Spaniard grumbled something about using the wrong name again.

"None shall pass!"

Arthur did a double take – the knight had spoken!  
"What?" he looked at the man in blue with a confused look.

"kesesesesese~ None shall pass." he repeated, still standing motionless in front of the bridge.

"I have no quarrel with you, good Sir Knight, but I must cross this bridge. I have an important quest to complete!" Arthur tried to move around the Blue Knight, but was quickly halted.

"Then you shall die. Kesesesesese"

Not only did the Blue Knight refuse to follow him – or his orders – but he had the most annoying laugh Arthur had ever heard.  
He composed himself and tried to look intimidating and 'kingly'  
"I command you, as King of the Britons, to stand aside!"

"I move for no man." The little yellow chick on the top of his helmet made a little 'chirp' sound in confirmation at the Blue Knights' words.

Arthur frowned "So be it!"  
Raising his sword, Arthur took a defensive position – the blue knight followed.

Meanwhile, Antonio took the opportunity ,while Arthur and the Blue knight where occupied, to run behind some trees - and throw some of those terrible scones in the small river.  
He was joined by the little yellow chick – obviously much more intelligent than it's owner.

Arthur's sword connected with the Blue knights', both grunting as the impact of their respective blows sent shock waves through their arms.

Each blow Arthur dealt towards the Blue Knight was systematically and gracefully blocked by his opponent – he was most certainly a very skilled fighter, that much was obvious.  
It annoyed Arthur more than he'd care to admit.

Just when Arthur though the fighting would never end, the Blue Knight was momentarily distracted by the little yellow chick's 'chirps' as Antonio fed it some of Arthur's rations. Arthur took the opportunity given to him and with a powerful blow, his sword connected with the blue knights' left shoulder – the sharp blade cutting deeply before severing the limb completely. Arthur was a bit shocked himself, he knew Excalibur was a magical sword – but such a power baffled even him! Regaining his composure he turned to his defeated opponent.

Antonio peeked out from his hiding place – wincing slightly at the sight of the blue Knights' gaping would flowing with blood – Arthur tried not to look at the wound at all, focusing instead on the helmet-clad head. "Now stand aside, worthy adversary." he ordered with as much authority his voice could muster.

"Das is but a scratch." The Blue Knight shrugged with his remaining arm. He seemed to not even have noticed he had just lost an arm.

Arthur gaped in shock before his expression turned to slight anger  
"A scratch? Your arm's off!"

Another one-armed shrug from the Blue Knight "Nein, it isn't."

"Well, what's that then?" Arthur pointed to the severed limb lying in the grass.

The Blue knight looked at his own arm for a moment before straightening up again  
"I've had worse." Secretly, Gilbert was glad he was wearing a helmet, his normal pale features where bound to have paled even more after such blood-loss.  
But he didn't have time to feel sorry for himself – he had a bridge to protect – and a little yellow chick to feed.

"You liar!" Arthur near shouted, his thick eyebrows furrowed deeply.

Raising his sword once again with his remaining arm, the Blue Knight taunted Arthur on  
"Come on, you Schlappschwanz!"

While the two men continued to fight, Antonio was having a one sided conversation with the little yellow chick "I do not understand! How can he forget my name!"  
The little bird chirped and tilted it's head – not really understanding why the Spaniard was using him as a therapist. Antonio only looked away from his newly acquired 'friend' when a sickening sound of flesh being cut was heard.

"Victory is mine!" Arthur triumphantly cheered as he managed to cut the Blue Knights' right arm off.  
Kneeling on the ground he closed his eyes in prayer "We thank Thee Lord, that in Thy mer-"  
A loud clang resonated in his head.

The blue clad iron foot made connection to Arthur's crowned head, a triumphant "Hah!" could be heard from the Prussian Knight as Arthur stumbled, mildly surprised by such an attack.  
"Come on then." he taunted, smirking underneath his blue helmet.

All he could do was gape and blink in surprise "What?"

"Have at you!" The Blue Knight raised his foot and kicked Arthur with all his strength. He was not going to run away – even with no arms he still had fighting spirit left in him.

"You are indeed brave, Sir Knight, but the fight is mine."

"Oh, you've had enough, hmm? Kesesesese~ You can't handle the awesomeness that is a Knight of Prussia!"  
His taunting voice was worse than the kicks delivered to Arthur's shins.

Arthur was tiring quickly of this idiot  
"Look, you stupid bastard. You've got no arms left."  
He pointed angrily towards the Blue Knight.

The knight scoffed "Ja, I have."

"Look!" Arthur pointed again, feeling the urge to stab the damn Prussian with his sword in the process.

Looking back and forwards between his newly acquired bleeding wounds, Gilbert just shrugged with what remained of his shoulders  
"Just a flesh wound." he stated as if it was nothing, before aiming another kick at Arthur.

Giving the Blue Knight an angry look, Arthur tried to evade his opponents kicks.  
"Look, stop that you bloody bastard!"

"Chicken!" The Blue Knight taunted again before kicking Arthur again – hard. Arthur frowned deeply

"Chickennnn~!" came the ever taunting voice as the Prussian jumped around him.

"Look, I'll have your leg." Arthur held a firm grip on Excalibur just waiting for the Blue Knight to kick him again.  
He didn't have to wait long.

The second Gilbert's leg came in contact with Arthur's side, he raised his sword and chopped the knights right leg clean off.  
"Right...take that you bloody git"

Gilbert's voice went a few notes higher – undoubtedly he was in a lot of pain right now  
"I'll do you for that!" came the angry reply as the Blue Knight hopped around on one foot.

Arthur raised an eyebrow questioningly towards Gilbert  
"You'll do what?"

"Come here!" He hopped over and tried to head-but Arthur with his helmet.

"What are you going to do, bleed on me?" Arthur just put his hands on his hips and watched as the other man desperately tried to topple him over.

The little yellow chick chirped sadly as it's master seemed to fall from grace.  
Antonio petted it carefully and tried to distract it with a tomato - it was not very successful.

Head butting Arthur repeatedly was all he could do at the moment  
"I'm invincible!" Gilbert screamed and again tried to do some damage with his helmet.

Arthur rolled his eyes "You're a loony."

"The Blue Knight always triumphs! Kesesesese~" Another pathetic head-but "Have at you!"  
A few unstable one legged jumps before the Prussian tried again "Come on then, you can't handle my awesomeness."

Arthur had had enough, swinging his sword he cut the Blue Knights' last leg off, the pathetic man now left to a near immobile state in the dirt.

"All right, we'll call it a draw." Arthur gave a small bow to his opponent and re-sheathed his sword. "Come, Patsy." he waved and continued to 'gallop' across the small dirt bridge.  
Antonio carefully came out of hiding, placing the small yellow chick on the defeated knight's head with a whispered "sorry about him...eccentric Brits – you know how they are..." before running after Arthur.

Gilbert was stunned. He couldn't loose! Never! "Oh... Oh, I see! Running away, eh? You English Schlappschwanz! Come back here and take what's coming to you. I'll bite your legs off!" But despite the desperate yelling, Arthur and Antonio ignored the blue man and carried on deeper into the forest.

* * *

_A.N: Right, this was more difficult to write than I though. Battle scenes are not my strong point - and refering to Gilbert became a bit boring when I had to re-use "Blue knight" every so often. Hopefully you all still enjoyed it!_

_Thanks for the reviews so far!_


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